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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29271783">The Water From Under the Bridge</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowshirbert/pseuds/rainbowshirbert'>rainbowshirbert</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Buried Hopes (AnnE Oneshots) [13]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anne with an E (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Apologies, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, dunno if i like this or not</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:27:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,561</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29271783</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowshirbert/pseuds/rainbowshirbert</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Anne and Gilbert talk a bit more about what happened while they were in school together. Post S3.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Buried Hopes (AnnE Oneshots) [13]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684312</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Water From Under the Bridge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I didn't proofread this so I'm sorry for any errors. It's pretty self-indulgent because I feel like Anne and Gilbert haven't acknowledged how they hurt each other.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Gilbert’s last letter before the day he was meant to come to Charlottetown was driving Anne crazy. Everyone had noticed at dinner she barely touched her food, and her eyes kept drifting from her books as they studied together. Ruby told everyone Anne was probably just love sick. Josie assumed she was anxious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was only when she and Diana were alone in their room she spit it out. “What could it mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What mean?” Diana asked, taking off her shoes and unpinning her hair while Anne grabbed the recent letter from her bed and thrusted it into her hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dear Anne</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Diana read, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m missing you very much as well. Classes have been getting harder and I’m finding myself-</span>
  </em>
  <span>Anne I don’t see what’s wrong with this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Skip to the second to last paragraph,” Anne said, biting her lip as she sat on her bed and watched Diana’s eyes scan the paper.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m very much looking forward to seeing you in two weeks, and I suspect this may be my last time speaking with you until then. The day someone invents a way for mail to arrive instantly in your lap will be the happiest day of my life. I’ve had a certain thing on my mind for a long while, years in fact, and knowing you I don’t wish to alarm you when I bring it up so I thought I’d give you warning.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The problem is, he doesn’t tell me </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’s warning me about!” Anne groaned, and Diana lifted her head as she fell onto her bed, hands covering her eyes. “Doesn’t he know my curiosity will be the death of me? Now I’ll spend the next eight days wondering what on earth has taken him years to say.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe he’ll confess his undying love,” Diana said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps. But I highly doubt it. It must be something truly deep and personal if he hasn’t told me for years. His deepest, darkest secret.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled at the thought. She and Gilbert had been friends before they began courting, but Anne’s favorite thing about their new relationship was how much more she was learning about him. She had spent over two years trying to get by with as little interaction as possible, but she was making up for that lost time with 10 paged letters stuffed so tightly into an envelope she was worried it might burst.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t set your expectations too high,” Diana warned. “Gilbert isn’t as dramatic as you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” Anne shrugged. “Well, now I have something to take my mind off classes. Two weeks can’t come any sooner!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those two weeks did crawl by. They would have normally, because she was already anxious to see Gilbert, but the added mystery of whatever he would tell her made her leg bounce up and down with anticipation every time she thought of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole was barely holding her back as Gilbert came off the train, a hat on top of his curls and his eyes dancing, looking. Looking for her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She waved and he caught her eye, his face immediately breaking into a grin. Cole let out a disgruntled sigh and Anne poked him in the side as she admired Gilbert.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dim fall sun lit the top of his curls, and the smoke from the train muffled the features from his face, but she could still see it didn’t look too different from when they’d last seen each other. Anne’s face heated at the memory of him kissing her passionately without a word even passing between them. They’d never been very good with words when it came to each other, anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the train started to trudge forward, Gilbert picked up his pace, a smile building onto his face as his legs carried him faster and faster toward Anne until he was barging into her with a hug.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anne laughed and embraced him tightly. She remembered the words from his letter, but only briefly until he pulled away and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How are you?” he finally asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good. Really good,” Anne said, and noticed his gaze drifting to Cole a bit suspiciously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The girls told our landlord I was coming to pick you up and she didn’t trust me enough to be a proper young lady apparently.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s already been in trouble twice as much as the other girls, even though most of the time it’s just because she spent too much time in the library and came home late,” Cole said. “But I promise to leave you two mainly alone. I came because I needed to sketch in the park anyway for a project. I just need to walk Anne home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Basically, Cole’s going to go in that direction,” Anne said, pointing toward the park he had mentioned, “And we’re going to go this way,” she said, switching her hands towards Hillsborough River.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole took that as his cue to leave, waving at the two of them and running with his sketchbook close to his chest around the train station.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Gilbert turned to Anne, and the excitement of seeing him again faded as the anxiety of his letter took over again. She quickly took his hand and guided him through the station and through town, down toward the bank of the river. He came willingly, being tugged around like a lost child. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they were finally far from the buzz of the city and the only sound was the water lapping against the earth, Anne turned around and grabbed both of his hands earnestly. “Now, if you don’t tell me what you mentioned in your letter this instance, I will murder you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert’s face morphed from shock to amusement to apprehension. “Of course. I should have known you were this excited to get us alone for gossip.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m no Rachel Lynde,” Anne defended. “But when you say you’ve had something on your mind for </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span>, my interest will be piqued.”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” He pulled one of his hands free from hers and used the other to urge her forward so they were walking side by side along the river’s edge. “This is long overdue, and I only realized a short time ago I’ve never said this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just say it!” Anne said, jumping over a rock, her boot sinking into the soft land.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert smiled at her, his eyes soft. Ruby had been right. His eyes were very romantic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” He took a deep breath, and Anne watched his face . “I wanted to apologize for pulling your hair the day we met. I was thinking about it and sometimes I wonder if it’s the reason it took so long to become friends, or for you to even like me. I feel a bit embarrassed every time I think about it.”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anne blinked. “But I already forgave you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? Well, yeah, I know, but we never actually talked about it-”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Water under the bridge’,” Anne said, the put out her hands and mimicked a handshake. “All of that is in the past.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gilbert nodded, and they walked a little farther. “I’m still happy I was able to say it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anne nodded absentmindedly, holding onto her hand. It was nice to hear the words. If she were being honest, she had forgiven him before their talk in Charlottetown three years ago, before his father’s funeral. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hadn’t realized it at the time, but Anne had forgiven him when one day after school Gilbert casually mentioned that he thought her analysis of Hamlet was so compelling he would read a whole essay on her thoughts. The idea hadn’t been able to leave her mind and she ended up writing a four paged paper on revenge, and realizing she in no way wanted revenge on Gilbert anymore for embarrassing her in front of the whole class.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anne kept this to herself for years. Perhaps it would be the right time to share now. But instead, she said, “I’m sorry too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What for?” Gilbert looked genuinely confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was always rude to you because of that,” Anne blurted. “You didn’t deserve it. You were never like Billy or the other boys, you were nothing but kind and respectful to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked up at Gilbert, but he wasn’t looking at her. She immediately looked down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anne knew her behavior to Gilbert was unfair even as she was yelling at him or brushing him off. She always felt sick when she recalled the bitterness in her tone or the stomping of her feet as she stormed away from him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t admit it to herself to keep herself from dissolving into self hatred, but if Gilbert was able to apologize for an incident from years ago after spending all the time after it trying to gain her favor, she could admit she should have done better. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pushing Gilbert away had been the worst chain of mistakes she could ever make. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she looked up at him again, his eyes darted to hers and he spoke. “I had forgiven you for that long ago as well. I know you have a lot going on in your head.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It still wasn’t fair. I will be better,” Anne promised. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Better sounds good,” Gilbert agreed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead of shaking on it, they’re hands swung together in unison as they walked farther upstream, and their conversation gradually began to talk about new, better things. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Twitter: @rainbowshirbert</p><p>Tumblr: @mydramaticflare</p></blockquote></div></div>
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